


Sorry, Professor

by shuns



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Backstory, Banter, Comedy, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Marauders always have an excuse, No Parrots were harmed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuns/pseuds/shuns
Summary: A brief history of the Marauders as memorialized by their excuses, their very inventive and improbable excuses. Or some of the times James, Peter, Sirius, and Remus saidSorry, Professor.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 34
Collections: Cards Against Muggles Crack Fest





	Sorry, Professor

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:  
> Black Card: I'm sorry Professor I couldn't complete my homework because I was ________  
> White Card: transfiguring my dick into an actual parrot.  
> (How could I pass on this?)
> 
> Disclaimer: the recognizable characters in this story do not belong to me but are the property of J.K.Rowling and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> A/N: And if I did own them, that Epilogue would be the first thing to go.

* * *

Sirius met Professor McGonagall's glare with all the gravity a cheeky third year could muster, "I'm sorry Professor, I didn't read the assignment because there's a boggart in my textbook. It turns into a particularly aggressive head of broccoli when I open it."

"Broccoli, Mr. Black?" asked Professor McGonagall with one eyebrow raised.

"Yes, Professor, I find the curly bits especially distressing."

* * *

"Ouch, watch your damn foot Sirius," hissed James from down below. 

"Well, don't get in the way of my foot, tosser," snarked Sirius.

Above them, a head popped out the second story window where the climbing rope hung. A very nervous Remus whisper-shouted, "I heard a meow! I think it's Miss Novak patrolling. Hang tight while Pete and I hide. I'm going to disillusion the rope. Don't let go."

Sirius snorted, "Don't let go of the only thing between me and _splat_? Ace advice, Moony."

Remus gave him a two-finger salute. The rope's color faded to match the Castle's stone wall. 

Sneaking out had seemed like a good idea at the time. With the moon waning, no one would see them taking more mandrake clippings for the purification ritual before their Animagi meditation. Peter had swallowed his leaves again. At this rate, it would take them the remaining four years at Hogwarts just to purify themselves. 

They wouldn't be here without Sirius and his ever-present curiosity. In their first year, he broke into the infirmary to question Remus about his frequent absences, only to find it empty. The next day, a drawn and haggard Remus confessed everything, certain his friends would abandon him. Instead, they had tried to join him at the next moonrise, receiving a month of detention and a stern reprimand. 

James found the book on werewolf behavior in his family's Library, but Sirius realized werewolves targeted humans, not other animals. They had both said 'Anamagi' at the same time; they did their best thinking/pranking together. Tonight was no exception; they were late returning due to a detour past the Slytherin broom shed's doorknob to apply Sirius's itching hex and James's unorthodox contagion jinx. In theory, the resulting rash should spread anywhere they touched. Absolutely, anywhere.

"What day is it, James?" 

"Thursday"

"Balls. I forgot to do the reading for Transfiguration."

"I'd be more worried about Filchy; he'll be along with that beast Miss Novak."

"Why is his cat named Miss Novak? Why not Gingersnap or Whiskers?"

"I'd like to think it's a tragic reminder of his lost love so he can still snuggle her at night. _Oh, Miss Novak, you are so soft, and your breath is so fishy_ ," said James finishing with wet, sloppy kissing noises.

"Ewwwwww! Quick, obliviate me!" The rope creaked as the boys shifted. "I hope they didn't get caught. I don't want another detention."

A grizzled head poked out the window, "Then you shouldn't be climbin' out windows. And stop speculating on my love life and disparaging Miss Novak," said Filch, "You'll be polishing trophies until Yule for this." 

As James hauled himself up the camouflaged rope, "What we need is a bloody map that shows where everyone is."

"Or just cats," replied Sirius.

* * *

James wilted under Professor McGonagall's scowl, yet he could not stop squirming. 

"I'm sorry, Professor, I can't sit still. Someone enchanted my pants to feel like ants. It's both exciting and uncomfortable." 

* * *

James wrapped the book _Finding Your Way - A Guide to Magical Maps_ in the sound deadening cloth to absorb the book's screams. James rubbed his ear; he could still feel Madame Pince's pinch as she'd hauled Peter and him from the Library when the book started wailing the last time. After that, no teacher would give giving them a Restricted Section pass, and even Moony had no luck. 

James tucked the bundle under his cloak and left the Library at speed, pausing only to stick out his tongue at the part-librarian/part-dragon at the front desk. 

He slipped through the Portrait Hole, pulling off his cloak as he entered. He was unprepared for a bullet of red fury to knock him off his feet. Lily Evans sat astride him, pinning him to the ground. 

"You - YOU - ARSE!" she leaned forward and grabbed his shoulders, her weight holding him still. "How could you?"

James, while not entirely opposed to this development, also knew this was not a happy Lily. He should proceed with caution; he, of course, did not. "Hi Evans, can I just say you make murderous rage look good."

"Don't deny it. _You know what you did_."

He cataloged any recent pranks he had partaken in or pulled. Nothing stood out as something worthy of this much ire.

"I do a lot of things. Eat breakfast. Go to class. Worship your every dainty step. Care to be more specific?" She rocked back and glowered at him. His body lit up at her movement; fear and arousal are a potent mixture. 

"The entire Slytherin House has some sort of rash. Severus is covered in welts."

Ah, his contagion jinx layered on top of Sirius's itching hex had worked. Magical theory said you shouldn't mix hexes and jinxes, but magical theory could ride a short broom. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. If that's all, let me up."

"Not until you tell me how to reverse it."

"Never." Even if he had wanted to help Lily, unpicking the jinx/hex? Hinx? Jenx? would be impossible. 

"Fine." With a feline smile, Lily scooted down his body and opened up his trousers. She shoved her hands into his pants and grabbed his arse cheeks.

James gasped at her touch. It was everything he hoped it would be. 

" _Formicae Farris_."

And then it wasn't; his arse alternated between 'on fire' and 'covered in creepy crawlies' from Lily's spell.

"Enjoy the ants in your pants, Potter."

* * *

"Mr. Pettigrew, I'm still waiting for your essay."

"I'm sorry, Professor, a niffler nicked it because it was such a treasure."

* * *

As the end of their third year neared, their Animagi meditation stalled. James thought his form might be a giraffe or something else with hooves. They worked on the Map as an outlet for their frustration. Creating the enchanted ink fell to Sirius and Peter, who were best at potions. James and Remus's task of enchanting the parchment had proved difficult. Any paper they used immediately caught fire and burnt into nothing. 

"You used too much brimstone in the ink," said James.

Peter shook his head, "No, we used that exact right amount. It's your bloody parchment."

"Isn't."

"Is."

Remus looked at the latest pile of ash, "Maybe we should give this up as a bad job? Do we need a map?"

James gaped, "A map? No, it's _The Map_. This will be the single most useful thing that we've ever made. It will stand the test of time, helping future pranksters dole out just desserts to those sneaky snakes."

"What if it falls into a Slytherin's hands?" asked Sirius.

Remus considered, "We could use a house detection charm-"

"See, right here in the chapter on making the map, the parchment does matter. It needs to be tied to the place, usually through a sacrifice," said Peter.

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" said Sirius.

"Sphinx knows- what the- JAMES! That's my Transfiguration essay. It took me a month to write it."

James smiled at Peter as he poured the last of the purple-green ink from the large beaker onto the seven-foot scroll that had been Peter's essay on Transfiguration versus Transmutation. "You said it wasn't the ink; it was the parchment. I tested your hypothesis on the very important essay you sacrificed. Look, no burning."

They watched all the ink, even Peter's words, vanish into the parchment. 

"Who wants to do the honors?" asked James.

Remus stepped forward. Touching his wand to the scroll, he said, " _Ostende Hogwarts_."

Nothing happened. Then a single dot appeared. A line shot across the page, curled and looped, drawing Hogwarts corridors and chambers just as Remus had requested. Sirius let out a little yelp as the footprints appeared with a name next to them. 

"Bloody hell," said Peter.

"Oh, I swear this will be so good," said James, looking at Sirius who nodded in agreement.

Remus sighed, "More like no good."

* * *

"Mr. Lupin, please stop waving your hand. What is it?"

"I'm sorry, Professor, but Peter is on fire."

"You were supposed to turn a glass of water into a bucket of water, how did he manage to do that?"

"Very badly?"

* * *

"Are those hooves?" asked Remus.

James looked down at the small, delicate hooves where hands should be. "Yes, definitely hooves."

"Right. Peter has a tail. Sirius's feet are paws. And you have hooves. I can't believe it took a year and a half to get this far," said Remus, letting out a low whistle. "You can change back, then?"

Sirius whined, "I don't know if I can. I feel like a crumpled piece of parchment. My only consolation is looking at Peter's tail. Is your form a worm? Because that's a worm tail. And you were worried about being a fish."

"It's not a worm tail. You're just jealous because you only changed a single foot into a paw. Besides, in my meditation, I felt a tail. A fish was the first animal that came to mind. I didn't want to be left behind in a bowl."

"I told you we would put you in a bucket and bring you with us."

"My head hurts," said James.

Remus leaned over and ran a hand through James's hair. "You have two bumps on your head."

"What are they?"

"Not sure? Horns, maybe baby antlers."

"Let me see." Sirius pushed in, "Oh, those aren't antlers. Those are horns, little horns. Maybe you're a goat. 

"I am not a goat! In my meditation, I felt tall and majestic. Like a giraffe. But with antlers."

"Sorry, James. Those aren't antlers. At best they're prongs," said Sirius.

Remus sighed, "If you can't shift back, what do we do? Infirmary?"

"The book said as the mediation potion fades and with it the transformations… eventually."

"Eventually? But we have class tomorrow," said Sirius as he raised his left foot to scratch his ear. "What? I had an itch."

Remus shook his head, "I could charm Sirius's shoes to stay on. Peter, do you need anything to hide your tail, or could you just tuck it?"

Peter winced, "Tuck it, but it's a bit sensitive. I'll need some padding."

They turned as one to consider James, "Gloves," said Remus. 

"And a hat," said Peter.

"We'll have to keep McGonagall occupied. She'll spot the signs of an Animagus transformation gone wrong," said Sirius.

James held up his hooves. "Very wrong."

"We are going to lose so many house points," said Remus, scrubbing his face.

* * *

'I'm sorry, Professor, I couldn't complete my homework because I was transfiguring my dick into an actual parrot."

Professor McGonagall's mouth dropped open. "Mr Black! Fifty points from Gryffindor. And detention."

"Mr Potter, at the risk of my nerves fraying further, why haven't you completed the assignment?"

James smiled, "Apologies, Professor, however, I found a fascinating spell that could turn my… member… into a flamingo."

"And you, Mr Pettigrew?"

"A duck?"

Professor McGonagall's lips pinched into a line, "Another hundred points and detention until the Yule for the lot of you. I am disappointed this is the way you want to start your fifth year. Be certain, I will ask Hagrid to give you the most disgusting and filthy tasks he can find for you unrepentant reprobates. Go! Get out of my sight!"

On their way out the door, she swore she heard one of them say, "Perfect."

* * *

Hagrid dismissed them from mucking out the thestral stalls early, but they didn't return to their common room their detention gave them a convenient reason to be out of the Castle.

The late afternoon sunlight broke into shafts, dappling the shade at the Forbidden Forest's edge with gold. The crisp autumn air snapped against their nostrils. James could smell the excitement on his friends. When you shared your magic with an animal, you saw with different eyes, smelled with a different nose, and felt the ground with paws, claws, or hooves. 

They crept along the forest's edge, blending into the brush, making their way toward a young willow, trailing long, wispy branches to the ground. James drew the Map from his robes, checking for anyone nearby. The willow sprang to life as they approached it. Peter shifted into Wormtail and ran between the branches of the Whomping Willow, missing certain death, once, twice, thrice. When he made it to the tree trunk, he paused to catch his breath then pushed a knot. The tree stilled. 

Inside the Shack, James let out a low whistle, "Every moon he comes here? Rather bleak, the torn wallpaper and gouges in the wall say 'I can't be bothered with interior design.'"

"Will this help?" Sirius transfigured a handkerchief into a replica of his cherished Farrah Fawcett poster and placed it on the wall with a sticking charm. "Brightens up the place. It's almost liveable now."

"Shouldn't we change?" asked a nervous Peter, "I hope he doesn't eat me." 

"Marauders don't eat other Marauders, it's a rule," said James.

For the first time Remus smiled as he walked towards the Shack, he could hear the happy barks, snorts, squeaks of his friends.

* * *

Professor McGonagall watched the two redheads bent over a tatty bit of parchment at the back of the room. They were plotting; she knew it when she saw it. Bill Weasley had been a star. Charlie was sweet. Percy was punctual. But these two, Fred and George, were trouble. They reminded her too much of another set of troublesome boys.

"Messrs. Weasley, are you having trouble with the exercise?" She looked over her glasses at them with her stun-a-seventh-year glare.

Unphased, one of them Fred-or-George answered, "Sorry, Professor. It appears our textbooks have boggarts in them."

"Yes," chirped George-or-Fred, looking up from the parchment, "It's broccoli. We find-"

"-the curly bits disturbing," finished Fred-or-George.

Her mouth dropped open. She could count on a few things in life. Firewhisky made her nostalgic. Snowstorms made her knees ache. And no students could ever cause her as much trouble as the Marauders. At least four times a year, she opened her desk drawer and found one of their enchanted dung bombs. Flitwick and Dumbledore had checked her desk repeatedly; neither could break the enchantment those boys had used to prank her. 

She sat back in her chair and opened up the drawer where she kept her flask: no dung bomb today. She had a break between classes, and she could use a bit of fortification to mourn those pranksters she'd known all those years ago. 

Steeling herself for what was coming, "Well, Messrs. Weasley, if that is truly the case, I suggest you try _Riddikulus_ and think of parrots." 

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for [Naidhe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naidhe/pseuds/Naidhe) because she said I should write more Marauder stories _-Challenge Accepted._ And for HeartSandwich because she suffers for my art. 
> 
> Thank you to the CAMCF Mods and Admins - you put together a fabulous fest that allowed me to write more penis themed stories. I don't often write the Marauders, but when I do there is usually a dick joke.


End file.
